


Unspoken and Unfettered

by dreamcager



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcager/pseuds/dreamcager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the political and media whirlwind after the closing of the Breach the two scientists of the K-Sci division are just as busy as anyone else, but something is different.  After their Drift the way Hermann and Newton look at each other is no longer the same.  It can never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hermann: We Were Rockstars

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have never read the novelization of PacRim. I have only ever watched Pacific Rim once. I leave all errors in continuity and jargon at the doorstep of my two lovely beta readers, Penbee_of_Treewood and sumbril. Thank you for putting up with my continued stalking of your portrayals of Hermann and Newton in our rp land. Also, I typed this up using Scrivener so if formatting is a little awkward to begin with I’ll be doing my best to fix it asap!

Chaos. That was how Hermann Gottlieb would have described the festivities after the final blow had been dealt.

 

The Breach was closed! The disaster averted! The fucking apocalypse was averted! Certain death was no longer in the cards! But it took death to get to that point. Pentecost was lost. Chuck Hansen was lost. The last of the Jaegers were destroyed. A good chunk of Hong Kong had been destroyed.

 

Despite the mix of good and bad, it seemed a party was in order. The cheering crowd in LOCCENT had meandered down into the mess hall where ration limits were broken and hidden stores brought to light. Hermann wasn’t surprised to know there had been a cache of alcohol somewhere in the Shatterdome but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. As stripped down in personnel they had become since losing funding to the Wall, it still was no small number. And yet, when one cup emptied it seemed there was liquor aplenty to fill it up again.

 

Someone had to be the responsible one amid the mess and Hermann, as conscientious as ever, had taken that role upon himself. Good thing, too, because Newton seemed hardly able to keep himself from downing drink after drink.

 

 _It’s a coping mechanism_ , Hermann’s brain supplied as he watched on. _A wish to fit in, to channel the overwhelming stress. To grieve._

 

Yes, there was plenty of grief here along with the joy. A sense of relief with an aftertaste of bitter truth. Even someone trying to remain professional could feel pangs of sadness bring a tear to their eye. But whatever mixed feelings Hermann might have had, it was put to the side when an enthusiastic cheer broke the buzzing din of the atmosphere.

 

“And here’s the real stars of the show, ladies and gentleman!” Hermann wasn’t sure who had supplied Tendo with a megaphone, perhaps one of the Jaeger engineers, but he was smiling from a stand he was taking atop a table. He gestured to the entryway where a very exhausted Raleigh and Mako stood, leaning on each other for support. The crowd pressed in and soon the two were lost from sight. Then Tendo had another use for the megaphone, attempting to get the grateful party-goers to leave room for the last Jaeger pilots to breathe.

 

Hermann idly wondered if the two pilots had yet to be seen by a medic yet. Surely they had but…

 

“S’great they made it back,” Newton said as he dropped into the seat next to Hermann. The xenobiologist slung an arm around him, as he had many times already that night, and leaned his forehead on Hermann’s shoulder. Calling him drunk would be a tame descriptor. “Great! Really! Like, they could have died down there in a million different ways and only a fraction of those ways would have also included closing the Breach, but they did it! They did both and that’s, like, statistically improbable. Right? That’s what you’d say, right Hermann? Do you think you could run the numbers and let the class know how damn lucky Mako and Beckett are to be standing in this room right now?”

 

“You’re inebriated,” Hermann said, though his lab partner’s words brought up some dark thoughts Hermann had already considered in that brief space of time since they had Drifted and found the truth about the Breach. And maybe that was why Newton had brought it up; with the Drift came a sharing of memories as well as thoughts and opinions and emotions and fears.

 

Hermann had run the numbers over and over in his head. One didn’t even need to assume his math was right; the obvious answer was that the chances had been so very, very slim.

 

Newton shifted, always a nervous ball of energy, but more sloppy now that his bloodstream was half alcohol. A hand that was probably meant to land on Hermann’s knee came a bit further up his thigh and he gave the mathematician a little shake. “What? What’s wrong with inebriation when it’s a party? Don’t tell me you haven’t had anything to drink yet, Hermann! Live a little! It’s the end of the world— _was_ the end of the world—and it comes with free booze! Free! That’s a word we haven’t heard in forever, sounds good doesn’t it?”

 

“How about, we’ve been working for free for months now?” Hermann supplied, just the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He made no move to extract himself from Newton. If anyone asked he would just say there was no use in berating a drunkard for needing some comfort.

 

Newton lifted his hand to wave as if to try to get that sentiment out of the air. “C’mon dude, don’t say that! It’s bad luck! Or something. I’m sure it’s bad luck, talking about work at a party. Especially when that party means you’ve finished your work. Though we, like, did way more than just finish it. We fucking _destroyed_ it! Gave it a kick in the nads and slammed dunked it like pros!”

 

That last spiel seemed to take all the last of Newton’s energy reserves, if such a thing were possible. He deflated, head sinking down to the table as he released a groan. Then that groan morphed into a soft sob and, to Hermann’s distress and astonishment, Newton began to cry.

 

They were far enough away from the majority of the crowd to not draw attention to themselves, but ultimately it didn’t matter. Newton wasn’t the only one crying after the events of the last twenty-four hours, and knowing what he had been through with the Kaiju attack on Hong Kong along with the distress of Operation Pitfall, Hermann didn’t really blame him. He probably empathized with Newton a lot deeper than most might realize. But as such, he didn’t feel it was right to let others see his lab partner like this. Newton would not want his image as some hardcore rockstar to become tarnished.

 

Reaching his own arms around Newton, Hermann gave a tug and pulled him to sit up. “Now, now, enough of that. Let’s get you back to your room then. You’ve had a long day, Newton.”

 

“You’re not my mom,” Newton mumbled with a lazy, wet blink up at Hermann. He fell silent after that and Hermann took that to mean he wasn’t going to put up a fight.

 

Steadying himself with his cane, Hermann grimaced as he stood, old pain brought to the fore now that the adrenaline had drained away. His medicine cabinet seemed so far away, but looking down at Newton swaying there Hermann knew he had a duty to get him to bed before seeing to himself. He reached down and tugged up Newton, finding he had only a little trouble supporting him despite how obviously plastered he was. Or perhaps Newton was not nearly so gone that he couldn’t walk himself, but he didn’t seem inclined to pull away either.

 

They made their escape from the noise and the crowds, taking the halls at a somewhat unsteady gait. It seemed unusual how quiet Newton was the whole way, giving only the occasional sob as they hobbled along. Sometimes Hermann almost thought Newton was helping to carry him along as he had back when they needed to make a swift run to LOCCENT to give them the new data about the Breach. It had to be his imagination.

 

They arrived at Newton’s bunk after a few minutes, Hermann slightly out of breath as he awaited Newton’s attempt at sliding his key card. The third attempt went through and Hermann pushed the door open, leading them inside. It was a mess, as could be expected of the eccentric Doctor Geiszler. Hermann would have rolled his eyes at the vintage Godzilla posters and Kaiju merchandise, or sneered at the pile of unwashed clothes next to the bin of washed but unfolded laundry. Tonight he held little judgment, however, focusing instead on getting Newton into bed.

 

Disrobing was out of the question so he settled for just getting Newton to sit down to toe off his shoes while Hermann busied himself unfastening his tie. Newton slid his glasses off and looked up at Hermann just as the knot began to unfold. He watched green eyes blink up blearily at him and there was an odd mixture of innocence and intimacy that washed over Hermann, causing his hands to fumble just a moment as the tie slid free from Newton’s neck.

 

“You should perhaps sleep on your side tonight,” Hermann said after a measure of silence, finding his hands suddenly very empty. He grasped for words. “You really… I should not have allowed you to drink so deeply—”

 

“You’re not my mom,” Newton said, repeating the phrase from several minutes before. Only this time a smile broke out over his face and he swayed, throwing his arms up in a sudden rush. “Oh man, dude! _Dude!_ Can you believe it? We… we fucking did it! We owned that bitch today like, fuck dude! We were totally rockstars!”

 

He laughed and fell over, reaching out to grab at Hermann’s arm at the same time. Hermann jerked forward but barely managed to keep from tumbling straight into Newton despite his surprise.

 

“Yes, yes, we owned it indeed,” Hermann said with a placating pat to the top of Newton’s hand. Newton’s fingers only gave his arm a squeeze, not letting go.

 

“Admit it,” Newton said, his speech slowing as his eyes drifted shut, “we… we were rockstars.”

 

Hermann pursed his lips but found he couldn’t muster any disparaging remarks to that. Instead, he simply sighed and gave a nod, resigned. “We were rockstars, Newton. Now go to bed. You are sure to feel awful tomorrow whether we won the day or not.”

 

“That’s it,” Newton mumbled, his hand sliding lower down Hermann’s arm, just barely grasping a his wrist now. “You… you said it…” And just like that, he slept.

 

Hermann watched him a moment then sighed, moving to leave but found himself caught. The hand clenched around his own seemed to strengthen and Hermann looked up at Newton’s face but found no trace of consciousness. Odd. He didn’t seem inclined to release him anytime soon either.

 

Giving a huff, Hermann carefully set his cane down then sat on the very edge of the bed. Surely Newton would relax his grip after a minute or so and then he could leave and find his own place of rest. But the quiet sound of his lab partner breathing and the soft ticking of a clock could only distract him for so long. As a scientist Hermann’s brain was constantly in motion and now was no different.

 

He found his thoughts traveling back to the Drift as he looked at their entwined fingers. It seemed such a proper analogy, now that he considered it. A ‘neural handshake’ they called it, but it was more like holding someone’s hand. A handshake meant it was brief, as if when you let go you reverted back to yourself and that link was broken, but that was untrue. Hermann never would have realized how it worked if he hadn’t done it himself, but now he knew. That link lingered.

 

He couldn’t just let go of his neural hold of Newton, not in the way he had expected. He still had those memories spilling through his mind, still felt the sting of being treated like a child even while he accepted his third of the six degrees he would earn, still remembered the hot buzz of standing on stage in front of an audience with his band jamming out, and still could feel the thrill, the excitement of knowing that today he was going to meet the man he had so excitedly written to those past three years—

 

And that was where memories converged and feelings overlapped, because Hermann could remember thinking the same thing as well that day they had met, before they had both dashed each others’ majestic image of themselves. Hermann was also certain that Newton still remembered the feelings and thoughts he had when he was being bullied a prep school, when he finished his thesis and broke ground in Breach Theory, and when he got word back from his father to discourage him from continuing with the Jaeger project after the Wall had been proposed. All the highs and the lows they shared together, and they couldn’t just forget. They didn’t just forget.

 

Even now, a scene replayed itself in Hermann’s head but it wasn’t his memory. It wasn’t from his point of view. It was Newton’s, how he had felt such shock and then overwhelming gratitude when Hermann proposed going into the Drift with him, helping him, _saving_ him. And suddenly Hermann was a lot of things to Newton. He had always been a lot of things, but he was no longer the rival for the higher-up’s attention or the smug prick across the tape or the brilliant colleague with a stick up his ass. In that moment Hermann was his best friend, someone to be admired and trusted, and his hero. Newton’s hero.

 

He still hadn’t let up his grip. Hermann sighed again, but this time a fond smile played across his lips. Idly he wondered if the one not willing to let go was really just Newton or if perhaps it was also a little bit of himself.

 

To be continued…


	2. Newton: For Hygiene's Sake

Without even opening his eyes Newton knew he had the worst hangover in his life. Well, probably not the worst one, but somewhere in the top ten. Or maybe even the top five. It didn’t really matter, math wasn’t his thing. Not that he couldn’t do math, of course he could, but with a hangover? No thanks! As it was, all he wanted out of life right now was either an instant hydration pill or to return to sleep’s sweet embrace. Neither were going to happen, of course, so he grudgingly worked on waking up. Slowly.

 

He cracked his eyes open and gave a cotton-mouthed yawn. It took him several tiny blinks to realize what he was looking at; the back of a dark swatch of hair. Startled, he tried to sit up but found moving swiftly caused his heavy head to ache. He hissed out a soft swear and shuddered. Today was starting off spectacularly so far! And on top of that, he had slept with someone? What the hell had—

 

And then he remembered. The Breach was destroyed. Pentecost and Chuck Hansen had fought to the bitter end. Raleigh and Mako…

 

 _Hermann_.

 

Newt blinked, trying to rid his gaze of the bleary shield. Yeah, that was definitely his lab partner in bed with him. But not undressed, he noted. Okay, good. Shoes off, but yeah, would make sense. Half hanging off the edge… Oh god, his leg! But no, he was laying on his right side. Not as bad. Probably not very comfortable still but… Good…

 

Fuck, it was too early for this kind of trauma. Newt groaned and tried to sit up again, this time slowly. That was when he noticed their hands. Fingers clasped together. Oh. Gently, he extracted himself from Hermann’s grip and pulled away. Then, a little worried about disturbing him, Newton did his best to climb around the sleeping man so he could reach his tiny bathroom for a shower. No, brushing of the teeth first was a better idea. It felt like he had a layer of film over his entire mouth and that had to go _pronto_.

 

The spearmint flavor of his toothpaste brought him back to reality again and not necessarily in the best way. He just felt all the more aware of his body’s rejection of all his senses. The tiny, dim bathroom light felt like a piercing beam of sunshine but he would bear it. For hygiene’s sake. After he rinsed his mouth he just leaned over the sink for a few minutes looking at his reflection. God, he was a mess. Any sleep he had gotten must have been some sort of lie. He was shaggy but he didn’t feel like shaving. The world would have to be content with knowing he was taking a shower. And Christ, he had slept in his bloody, dirty clothes from the day before. But his tie was gone. When had that happened?

 

He groaned again and set about taking off his clothes then stepped under the spray of a tepid shower. Water temperature in the Shatterdome had never been that great, but at least there was good pressure. It hurt like hell after all that drinking but he wasn’t going to complain if it made him feel and smell less like a used pair of gym shorts.

 

Under the shower time always made him think. Not that Newton was unused to thinking. He was a god damned scientist and his brain was never idle! But today’s thoughts were hardly ordinary. They were comprised of most of what he remembered of the day before, flashes of fear and pain and sadness and joy, all meshed into some sort of supernova imploding inside of him. Part of him wanted to cry but he staunched it, focusing on his breathing as he lathered his hair with a two-in-one product. Time to think of something less overwhelming to cling to…

 

How had Hermann Gottlieb allowed himself to stay in Newton’s room with him? Was he afraid of Newton possibly having alcohol poisoning? Didn’t want him to choke on his own vomit during the night? Or was it something else? Had Hermann been just as drunk? Newton didn’t quite remember getting back to his room, let alone what happened when they got there. Probably just wound up too tired to leave. That was an easy thought to accept. Newt would take it.

 

But thinking of Hermann got his mind spinning towards other things. Some things pleasant, most pleasant really, but some darker. God, even if that Kaiju was barely an infant it was still a huge risk they took. What if they had died attempting to Drift with a fully-intact Kaiju brain? What if it had left them mindless from the overload of it all? It had been a stupid, reckless, destructive plan. But also brilliant and awesome and necessary. Necessary was probably the most important, but Newton preferred thinking of it as brilliant overall. It was his idea, after all. But again, if Hermann had been hurt…

 

He had been hurt. In the past. Newton remembered that now and winced, and not just because of the head rush he got bending down to lather his legs with a bar of soap. The bullying Hermann went through was thousands of times worse than Newt’s own experiences. It probably had helped that he had been pushed through the school years so quickly, and he was doted on by most of his classmates or else stoutly ignored by those that resented him (if only because they realized he was a minor and would easily have won any lawsuits against harm coming to his person). Hermann had no such barriers, having to deal with his peers head-on. Several of which bullied him for his brains, his awkwardness, his looks, and even some with the audacity to bully him over his disability. Sure, Newton understood that wasn’t particularly strange to be bullied over having a mental or physical disability, but still! The cruelty of it struck him to the core.

 

Hermann deserved better! He was a great guy, super smart and courageous and just so…

 

Damn. The Drift. Newton felt embarrassment creep in, causing another offshoot of thoughts. What the hell did Hermann think of him now? After seeing all his fears and failures, all those horrible thoughts he had once thrown at him along with those Kaiju entrails. Sure, Hermann had some pretty terrible thoughts about him too, but Newton felt they were justified considering the hell he had given him. Deeper beyond all of that, however, was something that Newton never expected to find. Deep, unbridled fear. Fear for Newton. No, not quite fear so much as concern. Concern for his safety and well-being and his mind. It was like Hermann was afraid he was hellbent on destroying himself.

 

It was endearing, really. Newton couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about him so much. Probably his father and his uncle when he had first left to join the K-science division, putting himself in the middle of the battle to save humanity. But Newton had appeased them with letters and phone calls until it seemed like their mother hen instincts had relaxed.

 

Hermann, however, never seemed to have stopped worrying. Anytime he got a new Kaiju part to dissect could they be certain that it had been properly decontaminated? What if the neutralizing agent hadn’t penetrated it to the core? What if it exploded suddenly and Newton was left a blistered, catatonic lump with only days left until he expired? Then of course there was fear when he first postulated the idea of Drifting with a Kaiju. What if it only shorted out Newton’s brain? What if it killed him instantly? You couldn’t just assume it would all work out fine when you were dealing with a giant fucking alien! And of course, again, fear when Newton had been sent to get even more Kaiju brain from that insidious Hannibal Chau. A Kaiju attack was imminent and what if he got caught landside when it happened? And then he was and it was like… Newton couldn’t even fathom that level of anxiety. The only thing left to do was focus on continuing statistics for Operation Pitfall and that could only distract the physicist for so long.

 

It was touching. Embarrassing. Kind. And Newton would love to say that Hermann had nothing to fear and should have had more faith in him and how could he not expect Newton would rock all that shit like the shining star he was? But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Because he found he liked being thought of and worried after and cared for. Cared for. Now that’s what it came down to, wasn’t it?

 

Newton climbed out of the shower and toweled himself dry, affixing the cloth about his waist before he stepped out. Hermann was still asleep, still in the same position as before. He must have been exhausted and so very, very relieved.

 

His first order of business was finding his glasses, which he nearly stepped on when floundering about for them. Then, changing into some comfortable shorts and a t-shirt, Newton retrieved a cold bottle of water from his mini-fridge and moved to his desk to boot up his laptop. He didn’t really have anything left to work on; they basically had just put themselves out of a job with their closing of the Breach, but he still had emails to check. Surely something had come through from the higher-ups, whomever they may be now that Pentecost was gone. The brightness of the screen was going to be a bitch but Newton would take it. A little self-inflicted dehydration sure beat the hell out of living through the apocalypse. His water bottle was half-empty before the thing had even fully booted.

 

Shifting bedsheets and a light gasp alerted Newton to Hermann’s presence again and he swiveled in his chair, taking in the sight of the other scientist blinking around in confusion. A sudden rush of fondness sprouted in Newton’s chest and he tried to smother it by being his usual charming self. “Morning, sunshine!”

 

“Newton?” Hermann’s voice was gravelly with sleep. He winced as he shifted to sit up, a hand moving to message his left leg. Apparently sleeping with his feet half-hanging off the bed hadn’t done his body any favors.

 

“Looks like you crashed here for the night,” Newton said after a moment, regarding Hermann with concern. Although he was obviously pained Newton still felt inclined to ask, “How’s your leg?”

 

“Nothing a little stretching won’t help,” Hermann replied, though Newton felt like that was a lie. Perhaps the Drift was still affecting him somewhat. Either way, Hermann at least didn’t seem nearly as surprised to be in Newton’s bed as Newton would have thought. Hermann finally turned his face up to look at Newton and Newt took that moment to swivel back to his laptop. Not that he had any reason to suddenly feel shy or anything…

 

“So, uh, just checking to see what’s up with the world now that it’s not ending,” Newton said conversationally. He opened his email and sure enough, one from Tendo was near the top of his inbox. He glanced it over then spoke between sips of water. “Seems we’ve got a meeting tonight at seven. Mess hall. Prolly gonna get debriefed about yesterday and told to keep quiet until an official statement is released by… whoever they decide is the new face of the resistance, I guess. Sounds like a party.”

 

“I’ve had quite enough parties after last night,” Hermann groused behind him. There was a sigh. “… I believe I left my parka in the mess hall.”

 

“We can get it tonight, I’m sure no one else swiped it,” Newton said with a dismissive wave. Then he downed the rest of his bottle and tossed it to a trashcan. It bounced off the edge and rolled across the floor until it came to rest behind his door. A few other empty bottles littered that area of his room. Hermann glanced that way, his lips thin and unimpressed.

 

Newton turned back to his computer for a moment, hearing faint mumbles behind him. Whispers of “I can’t believe I slept wearing my tie… How undignified” caused a little smile to come to his lips.

 

There wasn’t much more information in the email and the rest was all junk, so Newton pulled up a news feed just to see what was up. He couldn’t wait to hear the crazy speculation and sensationalism. And to think, he had a hand in all that! Sure, it was a bummer the Kaiju were gone, no more specimens to dissect and learn from but being in one’s brain not once but twice would tide him over for a while. And if he ever wanted a little more to study he could always try and contact Hannibal Chau’s people again. Someone was bound to step up into the bastard’s place…

 

“Well,” Hermann said, causing Newt to spin back around to him. Already the man had pulled his shoes back on and was making attempts to stand, speaking around a pained grimace, “seeing as I stayed longer than intended, I believe I shall retire to my own quarters for the afternoon.”

 

Newt blinked.

 

“… Oh.” Oh. Crap, he should probably say something more than just that. Newton scrounged about for words. “Ah, I guess you did get me here last night and looked after me while I was wasted. Sorry for the trouble and, uh, thanks I guess.”

 

Hermann gripped his cane and gave a snort but it sounded less derisive than Newton was used to hearing. “In that case, _I guess_ you are welcome, Newton. I will be on my way, then.”

 

“Wait!” The call came out of nowhere and even Newton had to stop and wonder why he was suddenly so keen on keeping Hermann there. The other scientist halted, turning a sharp gaze back to him. When Newton didn’t continue he glanced about the room before resettling his attention.

 

“… Yes, Newton? What is it? As I am sure you understand, I could use a shower and a change of attire myself.”

 

“No, I getcha! I mean, um…” But what was there left to say?

 

He didn’t quite understand it but there was this overwhelming wish to not let Hermann out of his sight. Or at least, he didn’t want to be away from him all day. Which was weird. Perhaps he was just used to seeing the other man constantly. They never got days off and for the past few months life had been their lab and very little else. Or maybe he was just lonely, still shell-shocked by the experience of the past two days. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts and memories. Or maybe… Maybe it was something else. Something inexplicable and endearing and utterly beyond words.

 

Newton scratched at his stubble and gave a wry grin. “After you shower, did you wanna grab breakfa- I mean, lunch together?”

 

That would do for now. He’d work through those other thoughts later.

 

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I’ve never had a hangover before, can you tell? Also, again, thank you Penbee_of_Treewood and sumbril for looking this over!


End file.
